Fall to Pieces
by DiemDreams
Summary: Since his experience in the Memory World, Seto has been secretly perturbed by any reference to his former self and his past connections, most especially by the emergence of a young woman bearing striking resemblance to the Blue Eyes maiden. Maybe he has come to accept some of his visions as truth, but he remains steadfast in his refusal to be ruled by fate.
1. Fall to Pieces

Fall to Pieces

Seto Kaiba securely closed the latch on his briefcase and leaned back as the car rolled through the front gates of Kaiba manor and toward the entrance. He had seen her drifting past like a ghost in the school corridor, hair like brushed silver and striking sapphire eyes against a porcelain demeanor. She had caught his eye for just a second before quickly averting her gaze elsewhere.

The door to his side opened and he stepped out onto the pavement. Droplets fell from the sky and tapped against the nape of his neck as he ambled up the steps and entered through the warm glow of the foyer.

Something irked him about her. He would not have noticed she was looking at him had she been less obvious.

Steps sunk beneath his feet as he ascended to the second floor and in the direction of his study. What choice did he have but to suggest she find a permanent residence elsewhere? They had no need for an extra maid, especially one that encouraged such nonsense from that pretentious museum curator and Yugi's band of lunatics.

A door shut to his left. He could imagine the scowl his little sister was sporting as she heard him approaching her wing. She was still resentful about his one-month-ago decision against her stranger-friend.

He veered away from his intended destination and instead strode for his room. His head was aching and, doubtless, it was the consequence of all this idiotic mental rambling. He had enough on his plate with the company, his schoolwork, his insomnia, and now his siblings, without needing to add to it.

He stormed into his room and shut the door too forcefully behind him. Mumbling incoherently, he resisted the urge to chuck his briefcase and instead planted it carefully on the floor near his dresser.

Sleep, he told himself. The coolness of the satin sheets against his body helped alleviate some of his tension as he stared unblinkingly at the midnight blue draping issuing from the top of the canopy.

When he fell asleep and how long he was out, he did not know. When he awoke, his room was pitch black with only the lamps from the terrace for light. He touched a finger under his left eye and, feeling its moistness, briskly wiped his face with his sleeve. A steady pattering flew against the double doors and windows.

A knock at the door alerted him that it must be nearly dinner-time. Surely enough it was, as his butler so kindly informed him from the other side of the door. He touched the lamp on his bed-side table and began to change.

Pulling a crisp dress shirt from the armoire, his eyes fell on the dresser and at the torn pieces of the his Blue Eyes White Dragon cards. He suppressed a groan. What was he thinking?

Scenes from the last month played through his mind. He had returned to his room to fetch a tie and found that…girl standing over his collection. Her duster lay far away by the window sill as she studied his cards with the most incredulous expression.

He shook his head as though to shake the thoughts away. They were irreparable. Why did he behave so recklessly to prove a point? There was absolutely no reason. None.

He exited into the hallway and briskly down the steps. A jingling flurry of red flew past him. Snatching her closest arm, he detained Mitsuki. "Where do you think you're going?"

For the first time this month, she did not give him an evil eye. "Seto!" she gasped. "Oh my goodness, you've got to help me." She latched onto both his forearms and peered at him with pleading eyes. "Kisara just got kicked out by her landlord."

He knew where this was headed. "No, she can't stay here," he said flatly. She persisted and shook him. "Please," she whined. "Please, please, please. Can we get her?" He gritted his teeth and looked away. What did it matter if she was kicked out? It wasn't his problem. Why doesn't her other friends take her in? "She's a girl and it's already dark," his sister continued on. "She's stranded in the bad section of town with nowhere to go. You won't even let me visit her because you say that area's dangerous. We've got to hurry! Come o—"

The dining room doors flew open and Mokuba poked his head out. "You're still here, Mitsuki? I thought you were going to get Kisara."

She shot Seto an expectant look while Mokuba glanced confusingly between them. "Fine," Seto snapped, snatching the keys from Mitsuki's grasp and moving for the garage.

"Can I come?" his brother's voice called. "No," he responded. "I want you to eat and do your homework."

Mitsuki caught up beside him and asked if she was coming. "Just text me the address," he responded gruffly and left without another word. She didn't challenge him this time, so they were even.

-o-

Twenty minutes out of the district, he received a message that Mitsuki could not get in touch with their charity case. He called back to say that he was turning around and going home, only to receive a myriad of threats of an unforgiving nature. "She said she was calling from a phone booth before the connection cut off. She's gotta be pretty close to the apartment complex. How many phone booths can there be?"

Yes, he thought, after passing the fourth phone-booth-turned-aquarium in sight, how many could there be? He muttered under his breath about how stupid he was, getting roped into this. The GPS wasn't helping and he had never driven in this part of town before…

After turning at the same detour a couple of times and cursing his GPS and the girl, he stopped the car in front of a vacant bus stop. The closest phone booth to the apartment was empty. He must have circled the whole perimeter of the blasted complex a million times and there was no sign of the silver-haired girl. Doesn't she know to stay in the same place if someone's coming for her?

He groaned and pulled out his phone to text his siblings that their effort was futile, only to catch a glimmer some yards off to his right and under the awning of a shabby-looking cafe. The brick columns of the railing must have hidden her from sight this whole time. But why did she not manifest herself when he first arrived?

With some irritation, he shut off the engine and pulled an umbrella from the passenger seat. She could stay for a few days, he thought vehemently, sloshing outside and onto the curb, but he had some new ground-rules.

As he drew nearer, he noticed the silvery strands emanating from under her hoodie. She shrunk against the columns and drew the drawstrings around her face as the wind blew through.

He stopped walking and paused a moment. She was still in her school uniform and at her back lay a damp box of her few possessions. The frustration dissolved away and was replaced by a sunken feeling in his gut.

Now, she blinked and stared at him with a nervous expression. Instead of approaching him, she jolted up and looked ready to take flight. He moved closer as her eyes darted from left to right, trying to ascertain the best escape route.

"It's okay," he said, surprised at the softer tone he had adopted. She gawked at him and stepped forward. "Seto?" she whispered. "I didn't know you were coming. I-I thought Mitsuki…" She cut off and looked at her feet. "I saw you driving past but I thought it was the guys that I was hiding from. If I had known—"

He handed her the umbrella and reached for the box. "Come," he said, jerking his head in the direction of the car. There was no point in standing in the rain and getting drenched. She held the umbrella above their heads and they stealthily navigated back to the car. After setting the box in the trunk, Seto reclaimed the umbrella and walked her to the passenger side.

They drove back to the manor in silence. He found his dislike of her was lessening by the minute. Perhaps it was due to the pitifulness of the situation that he witnessed back there, in front of the cafe. She sat motionless like a statue, uttering neither a word nor a sigh. He could grasp the missing parts of her tale and how she came to divert from her original location.

The gates pulled back as he drove up to the driveway. After parking in the garage, they entered the home through the interior door. Mitsuki and Mokuba nearly tackled the both of them on first sight. A fuss was made and Kisara was led up the stairs. She looked back and thanked him in a small voice.

Seto withdrew to the drawing room and sat by the fire as hot tea was brought in and prepared. He did not want to face her again right away, especially now when they had lost the cover of darkness. Something about her eyes made him feel ashamed of his previous temperament.

He stared into the fire, thinking back to the scene from a month ago. At the same time, the words of the maiden from the memory world echoed in his mind, "I have to go now, but I believe one day we can meet again…"

Thirty minutes past, he decided that it was enough time for her to settle in and that the other two had quieted down by now. It was nearly ten o'clock, not too late for work to be done, but did he even have the energy after such a trying day?

No, he didn't. He just wanted to forget about the whole affair. He rose from the armchair and strode over to the door. Pulling the doorknob toward him, he met her once more. Her hand was a closed fist suspended in midair. She asked if she could have a minute. He nodded and stepped back so she could come in.

"If you're here to thank me, you've already done so," he said, closing the door behind her. Keeping her eyes downcast, she folded her hands together and twisted her fingers as she spoke. "I don't want to overstay my welcome," she finished, glancing up at him.

He felt a wash of shame and looked away. "You can stay as long as you need," he replied quietly. The sound of sniffling drew his attention back to her. She was crying. This was becoming a very uncomfortable night.

There was a tug on his sleeve and, before he knew it, she had grabbed ahold of his hands and was attempting to hold back her sobs. They stayed in this position, unmoving, for a few minutes before she gently relinquished him and clapped her hands on her thighs. "You should get some rest," he said, for lack of knowing what to do. She nodded and ducked out of the room, shutting the door gently.

Seto released a long-wavering breath and fell back against the nearest chair, stabilizing himself against its arm. His heart was racing in his chest.

A/N: I've always wanted to revisit Seto Kaiba because I never felt like we answered the question of Kisara. That one line from the anime memory world gives me hope that Kisara would've eventually made an appearance, had Takahashi not been rushed by his deadline (see wiki about Kisara). They make such a strong and symbolic pairing and the subtitled Japanese anime shows it (unlike the 4kids American dub anime). Their relationship was a tragedy so I had to give them a chance. I haven't decided whether this will be ongoing or a oneshot. The icon I used is found from Google. It was the motivation behind this piece, so props to the original and "anonymous" artist. This is a more serious side-story to the "Oh My Ra!" comedy fan fiction I wrote more than ten years prior, which is why you've encountered my OC, Mitsuki. To cut it short, she was Gozaburo's illegitimate child and Seto and Mokuba's adopted sister.


	2. The Struggle

The Struggle

Seto awoke, catching glimpses of the sun's rays slipping through his bed curtains. He touched his fist to his forehead and glanced upwards at the canopy. All he remembered was blackness. He had actually slept undisturbed through the night for the first time in months.

His alarm had not yet sounded, but the agitation running through his body was enough for him to rise without it. Brushing past the curtains and stepping into his slippers, he strode to the bathroom to begin his day, quickly showering then dressing in his work attire before heading down for breakfast.

His shoes seemed to skim over the floors and steps as he made his way to the first level. Upon entering the dining room, he was greeted by his siblings, who were somewhat astonished at his earlier-than-usual manifestation. He took a bite of scrambled egg while listening to bits of their conversation, trying not to look at the empty chair beside Mokuba. "Why are you shopping again?" he asked, recalling that Mitsuki had just gone a handful of days earlier. "Mokuba needs new clothes," she answered, referencing the sleeves and pant-legs sitting about two inches up his wrists and ankles. "Also, he needs a haircut." Seto glanced at Mokuba who shoved a potato wedge into his mouth and fixed his eyes upward, not wanting to contribute to the conversation.

He felt a hint of annoyance at her involvement. It was true—Mokuba had outgrown his clothes, but he had always chosen to wear his hair long and Seto never liked anyone imposing decisions on his little brother. He made his intentions clear, only to have his irritation matched and be met with astonishing news. "Besides, there's a girl at school he wants to impress," she said sneakily, smirking at the raven-haired boy and making him choke into his glass of milk.

It was surreal hearing those words. Mokuba was still a kid. Why, suddenly, did he appear and sound older than how he last remembered him? Had his mind been so preoccupied in the previous four months that he failed to take notice? "You promised you would't tell!" his brother accused angrily, upsetting the silverware. Mitsuki stuck her tongue at him and nonchalantly dismissed his charge. "We're thinking of stopping for lunch at the diner where Kisara works," she said, her right hand outstretched before a fuming Mokuba and her mischievous eyes now settled on him. "It's really close to the plaza and Kaiba Corp…if you want to join us."

Seto's grip tightened on the spoon in his hand. The mention of that name had caused an uncommon jitter in his gut and flooded his mind with the scene from last night. He curtly declined the offer and occupied himself with stirring sugar in his coffee, trying to ignore Mitsuki's smug musings about her brothers' awkwardness with members of the opposite gender.

-o-

The limo slowed to a stop in front of Kaiba Corp and Seto slipped out with his bodyguards, past the attendants and open doors and into the lobby. He wanted to get upstairs and dive right into work as quickly as possible while his mind was still alert.

Striding past the visiting area, his eyes rested on the unoccupied reception desk. "Where is Maki?" he demanded, finding it odd that the silly but devoted older woman was absent. Never in his whole history of Kaiba Corp had he seen her take a sick day or vacation. He was informed that she had eloped with a lover and sent word of her resignation early this morning.

His clenched jaw had the whole perimeter in silent terror as the employees awaited his reaction. "Find a replacement," he ordered, feeling extremely vexed and muttering on his way to the elevator of the lack of loyalty and competence and the infinite stupidity of those working under him. It was too early in the day to be so aggravated, but they nonetheless found a way to make that possible.

He passed his secretary setting up a reservation through her Bluetooth headset and pushed open the door to his office. "Good morning, Mr. Kaiba!" she hailed as he disappeared inside.

Gently setting his briefcase on his desk, he unloaded his laptop and the expense reports he hadn't gotten around to verifying. Glancing upwards, his eye caught the dome of the shopping center several blocks down and caused him to recall Mitsuki's less-than-subtle suggestion. With exasperation, he shook the thought from his head and settled down to tackle the reports and stack of proposals covering his credenza.

It became increasingly difficult to focus in the hours that followed since his mind kept taking to other distractions: the drilling down the street, the landscaping crew trimming the trees, the incessant ringing outside, the brightness pouring in from the window, the blue…

Not wanting to let the agitation get the best of him, he covered the windows and plugged in his earphones. It didn't help. If anything, the music made his mind wander more frequently. It seemed that, just as he was close to shutting all those thoughts away, they'd come back at the very end. He tore the earphones away and sat back against his chair. It was nearly one-thirty.

His fingers tapped absentmindedly on the arm before he rose and pulled his jacket back on. There was no use staying an extra twelve minutes in this state of mind. "Did you need something, Mr. Kaiba?" his secretary asked, glancing closely at her desktop clock. "I'm taking lunch," he said.

Downstairs, the car was already waiting for him. "Where to, Mr. Kaiba?" the chauffeur asked as soon as the door closed behind his second bodyguard. "The diner on 9th street," he replied.

-o-

"Big brother! You made it!" exclaimed Mokuba, jumping out of his booth and pulling him forward. Mitsuki sipped her milkshake and cheesily waved him over. "What about Hayashi and—oh, I see them." she said, her eyes alighting on the two servicemen sitting two booths away to their right.

Seto sat cross-armed back against his booth, ignoring the myriad of eyes and gossip circulating his visit. An embarrassed waitress came up to him and shakily offered a menu. Mitsuki burst into giggles the minute she walked off; he confirmed that this nonsensical child he had for a sister was incapable of keeping her feelings pent up for long. "The fries here are the best." Mokuba suggested, directing his attention to the house special on the menu.

The water arrived shakily and his order was taken by the same waitress from earlier. Mitsuki downed the rest of her beverage, eying him with unwavering scrutiny as he sat awkwardly by a zealously gaming Mokuba. He hated these public places.

Glancing lazily around the restaurant, he spied his current houseguest coming out from the kitchen bearing a full tray. Her hair was enough to give her away, despite how remarkably distasteful the serving uniforms were. That skirt is too short, he thought, generalizing the diner to subsist on the exploitation of sexualized minors, probably to make up for their sub-standard food. "It's been crowded since before we arrived," Mitsuki said, following his gaze to the tables at the far end of the wall. "We haven't had a chance to catch her this whole time."

Their waitress returned with his large burger and fries combo. Mokuba put aside his handheld console and avidly stuffed a handful of the deep-fried potato slivers in his mouth. "Mmmh!" he squeaked, waving at his mouth and attempting to wash the burning sensation down with his cola, only to realize that he had finished it earlier. Seto pushed his glass of water over to his kid brother and lifted a hand to his forehead, wondering if it would've been better to order take-out from his office.

"Are you all right, Mokuba?" asked a concerned voice on his left. Seto looked to its owner and felt a sinking feeling as Kisara reached past him and planted an ice-cold glass of cola in front of the teary-eyed youth. They watched as Mokuba chugged half of the glass and gasped in relief. "Thank you," he murmured, looking defeated. She nodded and glanced back at her assigned tables, "Sorry, I have to run. Hi Mitsuki, Seto." Seto took a bite of his burger, keeping his eyes fixated on his plate.

Her steps quickly grew inaudible as she crossed to the other side of the diner. Looking up again, he met Mitsuki's judging eyes.

-o-

The second part of the day was faintly more productive than the first. He had managed to finish overseeing the expense reports and was halfway through the proposals. Leaning back in his chair, he wondered how the other two were getting on with their shopping and grooming. As if alerted by his thoughts, Mokuba called in. "What is it, Mokuba?" he answered.

Mokuba sounded rather excited as he spoke, "Mitsuki and I are going to pick up Kisara's things from her apartment. Since you're closer to her, could you pick her up after work?" Seto sat upright in his chair. "What?" he barked. "Oh, we're going through a tunnel," Mokuba said hurriedly. "See you at home!"

The image of the red-headed miscreant popped into his mind. This is all her doing, he thought vehemently, hanging up and replacing his cell phone on the desk.

For the next two hours, he rifled through the rest of the proposals, tossing some and filing others for future consideration. One in particular made him pause in his appraisal. "Industrial Illusions," he read off the top, picturing the company's president and the creator of Duel Monsters. He had it in mind to ask Pegasus to recreate the Blue Eyes for him, but part of him questioned the basis for such a request.

The truth was, he hadn't dueled once since returning from the memory world. After all was said and done, he realized he could no longer bear the sight of its incarnation when it was a constant reminder of the fate levied on its previous owner. He shook his head to rid the thoughts of that haunting image.

-o-

She was standing against the side wall outside the diner as the limo crept nearer the curb. Her long, silvery hair swayed gently with the cool, spring evening breeze that blew over the streets. On recognizing his chauffeur, she approached the car.

"Hi," she breathed, smiling shyly at the door. She climbed in gingerly, taking care to maintain some distance between them by situating herself at the very end of the seat. "Thanks for picking me up." He nodded once and turned away, feeling a discomfort similar to acid reflux.

As they drove on, he tried to lose himself in the orange glow of the street lamps and in the blurred boulevards that whooshed past his window. "How was your day?" she asked, after a few minutes' pause. "Fine," he muttered.

Her shoulders drew inward and she shifted awkwardly in her seat, clasping her hands between her knees. He swiped through his phone, checking his email. "You work at the diner every Saturday?"

"Every Saturday and Sunday," she responded. He busied himself going through random apps, aware that her eyes were still on him. They still had a good thirty-seven minutes before reaching home. He could possibly make something up on his laptop, but the situation was draining him.

From the blue glow reflected against the seats, he deduced that she had also taken out her phone. Her thumbs nimbly tapped the screen, likely texting someone. The blood pounded in his ears as he considered his next set of words. "We're in need of a receptionist," he said, breaking the silence. The soft tapping stopped and she turned toward him. "If you're interested."

The light illuminated her eyes as she looked to him, taken aback by his offer. Though he kept his face fixed forward, he could see from his peripheral a pleased smile break over her face. She responded that she would be delighted and would make the arrangements to leave her current workplace. He pressed his lips tightly together and stared forward. "Next weekend then," he said.

-o-

"Tadaa!" Mitsuki sang, rolling a suitcase in front of her. Kisara gasped and ran up to her, "How did you get him to let you in?" Mokuba sniggered. "Threatened him, of course," Mitsuki answered, matter-of-factly, her hands resting on her hips in pride of her achievement.

"With what?" Seto asked, placing his hands around Mokuba's shoulders as he dove in for a hug. He noticed with relief that his little brother wasn't completely changed. His hair was cropped just a little below his shoulders. "It looks good, Mokuba," he said, patting his head.

She started counting aloud the various threats she had issued to the disagreeable landlord, including but not limited to buying out the entire plot of land and forcing him to vacate the premises. "Oh, you wouldn't," Kisara pleaded, looking concerned. "No, but he didn't need to know that," she answered, smirking.

Mokuba commented that she was very persuasive, to which she responded, pointing at Seto, "Yeah. I just pretended I was you." She did a dramatic turn and performed what was supposed to be a haughty interpretation of him. "Needs work," he said flatly and unamused, facing the butler to discuss the next day's schedule.

The other three headed up the stairs chatting jovially as a servant accompanied them carrying the suitcase. Seto was ready to follow them after the butler departed to oversee the preparations in the dining room, but was hindered by the chauffeur calling after him. "I found this on the back seat," he informed him, placing a cell phone in his hand. "Miss Hakuryuu must have dropped it on her way out."

Seto glimpsed at it and pressed the home key button. It was locked, but there were several messages in the notifications. From Anzu, "Sorry! We just got back…" From Anzu, "I'm glad you're safe. It was a…" From Jonouchi, "Are you okay? Let me know if…" From Jonouchi, "Mit said you're staying with…" From Jonouchi, "Kaiba's not mistreating you, is…" From Jonouchi, "If you'd feel more com…"

He heard footsteps running down the stairs and Kisara's voice calling from the second level. She had realized her phone was missing and suspected that she had dropped it somewhere. He pressed the lock key and placed the mobile on the table by the stairs.

She appeared a moment later, her cheeks flushed from the running. "I think I left…" she panted, gripping the handrail and steadying herself. "It's there," he answered, indicating the table and walking past her and up the stairs.

Jonouchi. What an idiot, he thought, feeling a seething anger set in as he took to the steps two at a time. He wanted nothing more than to retreat into the dark silence of his room.

A/N: Dum dum. I've decided to continue telling the rest of the story.


End file.
